


One Shot, One Opportunity (Capture It, or Let It Slip)

by anephemeralmind



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:15:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22291663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anephemeralmind/pseuds/anephemeralmind
Summary: Just a bunch of random drabbles that I need out of my head before I goeven morecrazy :DSome might get expanded into full blown fics, others may not, it really depends on which way the wind blows.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Comments: 96
Kudos: 94





	1. The Accidental Win

**Author's Note:**

> Mom's spaghetti 
> 
> lol sorry, as soon as I chose that title it was over for me
> 
> Anyway, to avoid cluttering the tags, and it potentially becoming a mile long and completely illegible, I’m just gonna tag each individual drabble thing in its chapter summary instead ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy accidentally wins a competition to spend a weekend with Armie Hammer in Los Angeles, which would be great, except, all he wanted was a Playstation.
> 
> (Tags: Alternative Universe, Famous/Not Famous, Fluff??)

His first reaction to seeing the email with the “Congratulations, you’ve won!” in his notifications had been a fist pump and a rather squeaky yell of “fuck yeah!” which would have been really embarrassing had any of his roommates been home – but luckily, Timmy was the only one with late classes on Thursdays.

When he opens the email however, his brain grinds to a halt, and he’s left staring at his phone with his mouth hanging wide open – because this isn’t a gift voucher for the new Playstation 5, which is what he’d entered the damn competition for.

No, somehow, instead of winning one of the 10 Playstation consolation prizes – which again, had been the entire reason he’d signed up – he’d managed to win the actual first prize. And as he’s reading through the email detailing what exactly it was that he’d won, Timmy finds his eyes growing wider and wider.

He hadn’t even bothered reading through the entire list of possible prizes when he’d signed up for that stupid contest, he’d just seen they were offering up the Playstation 5, and went “I want that.”

Naturally, he’d cheated and googled all the answers – like everyone does when it comes to these types of competitions – because he really fucking wanted that goddamn Playstation. The only answer he’d been truly honest with, was the little box that said ‘Give us one good reason why you should be the one to win.’

It wasn’t as if he’d had any type of sob story to share, but he had been honest. He’d written about how he was just a regular college student, how he was living off of student loans, how stressful that could be, and how really couldn’t afford to splurge on anything, let alone anything that would actually bring him joy – and winning this, it would bring him joy.

Granted, looking back now, he probably should have specified that winning a _Playstation_ would bring him joy, because what the fuck is _this?!_

There is an honest to god itinerary in his email, and to be completely honest, Timmy hadn’t even realized they were a real thing. He’d never really had one before, unless you count his class schedules, which really weren’t the same thing at all.

This fucking thing was filled to the brim with random timestamps, telling him how he had a first class ticket to Los Angeles six weeks from now, and that he’d need to be at LaGuardia airport at exactly 11:30am to check in. It also said he’d be landing in the private terminal at LAX – which he only knew about because he’d read up on it for a sociology project – and that he should wait there until someone called Nick would come pick him up.

Then apparently he would be taken to _Armie Hammer’s_ house, where he would be spending the long weekend _living_ with him.

Because apparently, Timmy had not only won a luxury weekend in Los Angeles, no, he’d also won a very personal meet and greet with one of Hollywood’s hottest actors – and he doesn’t just mean hot in terms of commercial success.

He wasn’t really a fan of Armie’s work, which made this whole thing even more embarrassing, but his face was everywhere, and he was definitely a fan of _that._ His sister, however, was a self-proclaimed Armie Hammer stan, and owned all his movies on DVD and bluray, because apparently just streaming them on Netflix or whatever wasn’t enough.

The only movie of Armie’s he’d really, truly enjoyed, had been The Man From U.N.C.L.E. – There was just something about that Russian accent that got to him, also Armie’s face, there was that too. Pauline just called him a disgrace, and claimed he had no taste in cinema – which considering his favorite movie of all time was _Transformers_ , well, she probably wasn’t wrong.

Timmy had no fucking idea how he was going to survive the weekend without making an absolute fool of himself, but as he responds to the email, confirming his attendance, he thinks to himself; Fuck it.

If nothing else, he gets a really nice, and much needed, vacation out of it, and it’s not like he’s ever going to see Armie Hammer in person ever again, so why should it matter if he embarrasses himself a little? With all the people Armie is bound to meet on the regular, why would he ever remember someone like Timmy?

Nah, he was pretty damn sure that as soon as the weekend was over, and Timmy was on a plane back home, Armie would forget all about him, so Timmy was going to try his very best to leave all his anxiety behind in New York and act as if Armie was just any other guy in his classes.

Who knows, maybe they could even become friends? Or at least friendly. The last thing Timmy wanted was for Armie to regret even agreeing to this in the first place. No, he was going to be perfectly ordinary, and treat Armie the way he treated everybody else. They’d have a fun weekend, and then Timmy would go home, and that would be that.

Armie would undoubtedly forget him, but Timmy would always remember.

Unless Timmy accidentally pees in his pool or something, which, no, shhh, we’re leaving the anxiety at home, shut up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the PS5 isn’t out yet, but, is that really the most unbelivable part about this? Didn’t think so :D


	2. I Can Buy You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy desperately needs a date to bring to his sister's wedding. No, scratch that, he desperately needs a _boyfriend_. Will has the great idea to just pay for one. 
> 
> What could possibly go wrong?
> 
> (Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Alternative Universe - Escorts)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, a 2k drabble, shhhh.

“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend at Pauline’s wedding.” Timmy rushes out, staring over at Will, while nervously chewing on his bottom lip. His best friend looking back at him with wide, unblinking, eyes.

“I’m sorry, _what?_ ”

“You heard me.” Timmy whines, and he’s pretty sure that if he’d been standing up, he’d be stomping his feet like a pouty three year old. “Please, man, I completely fucked up, okay? And I just need your help.”

“Yeah, no. That’s… That’s not gonna work, Timmy.” Will shakes his head, looking up at Timmy with a tight-lipped smile, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re my bro, and normally I’d jump at the chance to help you, but–”

“But what? Come on, what could be more important than helping me?” Timmy cuts him off before he has the chance to explain further, and Will just rolls his eyes. He did that a lot, and Timmy not so secretly wished that one day his eyes would just get stuck like that, would serve him right.

“I was getting to that, idiot.” Will snorts, and Timmy mutters out a quiet apology, absentmindedly picking on the skin around his nails.

“It’s just, I got my own invitation to Pauline’s wedding, remember? And I already RSVP’d with a plus one, and Pauline being Pauline called me the next day demanding to know who my plus one was, and I told her I was bringing my girlfriend.” Will finishes with a shrug. “So, as much as I’d like to help you out, this time I just can’t. I’m sorry, bro.”

He does look genuinely apologetic, and Timmy has no doubts that in any other situation, he’d do whatever it took to help him out – had done so several times already in fact, which is why Timmy went to him in the first place. But he couldn’t exactly fault him for having a girlfriend and bringing her to Pauline’s wedding.

Besides, it was his own goddamn fault he was in this mess in the first place, not Will’s. It wasn’t fair to him to take his anger at himself out on him.

“Yeah, no, it’s cool, man. I’ll figure it out, no worries.” Timmy nods, trying his best not to let his smile fade too quick, or look to strained. But when Will frowns, he doubts he managed it very well.

“Why do you need a fake boyfriend anyway? I mean, you’ve been single for _years_ now, Pauline knows that, so like, what gives?”

At Will’s perfectly reasonable question, Timmy groans and bends forwards to hide his face in his palms. Mumbling the answer quietly to himself, hoping against hope Will would let it go, because Timmy really wasn’t in the mood to be laughed at right now.

“Sorry, what was that?” Will asks with a quirk of his eyebrow. “I couldn’t quite hear you with your face squished against your hands like that.”

“Ugh, fine.” Timmy groans again, sitting up and tilting his head back against the couch to stare up at the ceiling. “My mom started talking about how happy she was that Pauline was settling down, and how she was so proud and happy for her, and how worried she was that I was running out of time to find someone for myself, you know, the usual.”

Timmy swallows, and turns his head to look over at Will, who is smiling softly and nodding back at him. If anyone knew how many times he’d had _that_ particular conversation with his mom, it was Will – he’d been there since day one after all, he’d heard it all, and then some.

“And I guess, I don’t know, I just couldn’t fucking take it anymore. All that passive aggressive concern bullshit, and I just got so _angry_.” Timmy whispers, closing his eyes, smiling sadly when he feels Will reach for his hand and give it a light squeeze. “And that’s when I fucked up, and I just blurted out that she didn’t need to fucking worry, because guess what? I already had a boyfriend.”

Will is quiet for a long while, so long in fact that Timmy opens his eyes to look at him, and finds him staring back at him with his mouth wide open, before he seems to catch himself and shakes his head, his face twisting up into a grimace. “Oh shit.”

“Yeah.” Timmy agrees. “So, now I really fucking need a boyfriend, and Pauline’s wedding is just two weeks away, and there is just no fucking way.”

“Well, I mean…” Will starts, scratching the back of his neck as he smiles sheepishly over at Timmy. “You could always hire someone?”

“You mean like a _prostitute?!”_ Timmy isn’t proud of the way he basically squeaks out the last word, he’s a grown ass man, he should be able to say the word prostitute without feeling like he just got caught with his hands down his pants, and yet.

Will on the other hand, just shrugs, and Timmy feels his eyes growing even wider “No, you can’t be serious. Dude, you actually want me to bring a hooker to my sister’s wedding just to appease my mother?”

“I’m not saying you should go to the nearest street corner and pick up someone at random.” Will explains calmly, as if that makes it any better. “I’m just saying, you can get pretty much anything online these days, and I’m sure there are plenty of _escorts_ who do the whole boyfriend experience who would gladly accompany you to a wedding in the Hamptons for a weekend.”

Timmy runs a hand through his hair as he thinks it over, and he can’t quite work out whether he likes the idea or not. On one hand, it would solve all his problems. On the other hand, he would be paying someone to pretend to date him just to get his mother off his back, how fucking pathetic could you get?

Also, who knew what types of people who would be willing to sell themselves for something like this. It might be better to just go alone, and deal with his mother’s disappointment. “I don’t know, man. It still seems rather skeevy.”

“Doesn’t hurt to have a look though.” Will shrugs, picking up his phone and typing something for a while, frowning a little until a smile takes over his face as he must find what he’s looking for.

“Here, this site doesn’t look half bad! It has a proper register, with photos, and they list their hourly rates, full day rates, as well as weekend rates. They even have their escort’s fill out a survey of their kinks and hard passes, so you know upfront which ones are game for what. It’s perfect!”

Will looks mighty proud of himself, obviously expecting Timmy to thank him for his help, but Timmy is too busy staring in shock between the list of escorts and Will’s face. Because what in the fuck?!

Timmy had barely been aware these websites existed, let alone how to find them, but it took Will less than five minutes. Clearly, his friend was either hiding certain aspects of his sex life from him, or, he was fucking Mr. Robot himself.

“How the fuck did you even find this?! Have you used this, or did you just google rent a boyfriend? Will, _what the fuck??_ ” For the second time in less than ten minutes, Timmy finds his voice giving out on him, because honestly.

What the fuck.

“Nah, dude. I’ve never used it, only reason I knew about it was cause of a friend of mine who I game with. Apparently it’s like, really exclusive, you gain access by referrals only, as a safety measure.” Will shrugs, as if it’s perfectly normal for someone you game Call of Duty with to just randomly grant you access to a fucking high-end escort service.

“Will, dude, come on…” Timmy starts shaking his head, but Will pretends not to hear him.

“I figure we can just have a look around, see if someone catches your eye, and if yes, I can refer you and you can go about hiring them.” Will looks over at Timmy with a smile, as if they were having a perfectly normal conversation, and not at all talking about Timmy hiring an escort to bring to his sister’s wedding.

Because clearly, this was a thing all normal people did. Talked about hiring escorts with their friends. Who gained access to said escort services by gaming Call of Duty. Totally normal behavior. Nothing weird going on here at all.

Yeah, so he might be panicking a little. Just a little bit. It was fine, he was cool. He was not going to hire any escorts.

Or was he?

No.

“I don’t know, man.” He shrugs, trying to hand the phone back to Will. “Maybe it’s best just to just endure my mom’s disappointment.”

“Dude, come on. At least have a look!” Will grabs the phone out of Timmy’s hand and stars furiously swiping the screen, muttering to himself before letting out a triumphant “Yes, I knew it!” and turning towards Timmy with a wide grin. “Dude, look, this one seems to be just your type.”

Timmy wearily accepts the phone Will is practically shoving in his face, he doesn’t know what he expects to see, but knowing Will – it will either be someone who literally is perfect, or it will be someone all done up in leather holding a massive dildo as a sword. He’s learned the hard way that there is never any in between with him.

Sucking in a deep breath, Timmy steels himself and looks down at the phone, and quickly looks back up at Will and finds him grinning widely, because this can’t possibly be real, this guy can’t possibly be, you know, an… Escort. For sale. For rent?

He just can’t be, _that_. Can he?

No. He’s too… He’s just far too pretty.

But maybe that’s what got him the big bucks, because looking at his hourly rates, Timmy nearly chokes on his spit. “I can’t choose him, Will.” He says with a shake of his head, and when Will just frowns at him, clearly not understanding Timmy’s hesitance, he turns the phone around so Will can see what he’s talking about. “Did you even look at how much he costs?! He charges more an hour than you make in a _week_!”

“Sure, but I’m not the one paying for him, am I?” Will snorts. “You and I both know that you could buy him every hour of every day for the next ten years and it would barely make a dent in your trust fund.”

“But…” Timmy starts, but Will just shakes his head.

“No, you’re not allowed to back out of this because of _money_ , that’s stupid. Just, he’s _perfect_ Timmy, and it says right here in his reviews that he excels at the boyfriend experience, and he even has that as his top 3 favorite things to do!”

When Timmy doesn’t immediately agree with him and beg Will to send him that referral, which Will was obviously expecting, he rolls his eyes and hits Timmy over the back of the head. “Dude, come on, not only is he good looking enough that if I had your money, I’d deadass consider paying him to suck my dick, but according to his calendar, he’s also currently available the entire weekend of Pauline’s wedding. Come on, it’s meant to be, man.”

“I don’t know.” Timmy whispers, looking back down at the phone. “What if we don’t get along?”

“Then just buy an hour of his time and use it to get to know him better, I don’t know. But even if you don’t, I’m pretty sure he’d be professional enough to be able to fake it convincingly enough.”

He’s not quite sure that he likes that Will has a reasonable answer for everything he brings up, because now it’s looking like he’s going to actually pay for an escort to take to Pauline’s wedding. If his mother ever finds out, he’s going to have to move to fucking Siberia.

“Yeah, I guess.” He shrugs, looking back down at the picture of the guy that would hopefully pretend to be his boyfriend in a couple of weeks.

Will wasn’t lying when he said he was perfect for him, Timmy had always been a sucker for a guy with a nice smile, and this guy definitely had one of those. According to the website, his name was Oliver Perlman, and he was 30 years old, which was perfect really, because then he’d be old enough for his mom to believe that they were serious and not just fucking around.

He was listed as 6’5” tall, which, Timmy was surprisingly into that, it’d be nice not being the tallest person in the room for a change. It also listed his cock size, but Timmy quickly skimmed past that, because, _no_ – Paying for a pretend boyfriend was one thing, he was _not_ gonna pay anyone for sex.

“Alright, fuck it, send me the goddamn referral.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this was taken from the song "I Can Buy You" by A Camp, which, looooove that song.


	3. (Heard You Fuck) Through The Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy's new neighbor is a slut, constantly bringing people back to his apartment to fuck. Which, great for him, not so great for Timmy who has to listen to it all, thanks to their apartments extremely thin walls.
> 
> (Tags: Alternative Universe - Neighbors, Accidental Voyeurism, except can I still call it voyeurism when he uses his ears and not his eyes???)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another 2k drabble? It's more likely than you think. Also, shhhh

Everybody moves out at one point, and Timmy is perfectly aware that he lived at home longer than most. He didn’t even move out for college, and why would he? Who in their right mind would choose to go live in a cramped room with a total stranger, when they could revel in the privacy of having their own room.

His friends always brought up the subject of sex whenever they harped on him for still living at home, because how could he possibly find anyone to hook up with when his mom was always right there. But really, that was no problem at all, they always just went back to the other person’s place.

He also didn’t need to think about anything other than studying, since his mom took care of the cooking and his laundry. Really, he’d been living the fucking dream.

But then he’d graduated, and by some miracle managed to get himself a full time job, and apparently that meant it was time to find an apartment of his own. After looking at quite a few apartments every weekend for a couple of months, he finally comes across one that is both affordable and not a total dump, or so small that his bathroom was also his kitchen.

Moving in was easy enough, he didn’t have that much stuff to bring with him from his mom’s place, it only took one trip since the only thing he was bringing with him was his computer and his clothes. His dad had offered to pay for new IKEA furniture, and there was no fucking way he was turning that down.

Only downside of buying all new IKEA furniture as an adult, was that he had to put everything together himself. But, he managed.

Or, it took three days, and somewhere around 1500 tantrums, but he fucking did it. He had proper working furniture that he’d put together himself, he was the most grown ass adult of all the adults. Sure, the first time he went to the grocery store, he came home with more snacks than actual food, but he was still very much a fucking adult.

Also, he never realized how often he needed to do laundry, because usually he just put his dirty clothes in the hamper and hey magically reappeared clean and folded on his bed. He might have gone out and bought a new 10 pack of boxers just so he could postpone doing the laundry at least a few days without having to freeball it, but fuck it, still an adult!

The first couple of weeks in his new place were incredibly ordinary, if not a bit quieter than he was used to, and making dinner quickly became just heating shit in the microwave. His mom would be appalled. But he settled in quite quickly.

Now that he had his own place he couldn’t fathom how he’d lived at home as long as he did, because fuck, this was great. And even though it was a little weird at first, he eventually came to appreciate the quiet.

Which of course, was when his next door neighbor made his presence known.

Timmy had gone to bed early, because he’d been working overtime the last few days and was exhausted, so he needed all the sleep he could get. His neighbor on the other hand, well… Sleep was definitely not on the agenda there anytime soon.

He hadn’t realized just how thin the walls between their apartments were, mostly because up until now, he’d been 100% sure that apartment was empty. But, apparently not.

Not only were the walls fucking paper thin, and Timmy could hear _everything_ , but as luck would have it, the layout of their apartments must be fucking mirrored, because apparently, they shared a goddamn bedroom wall.

No wonder the rent was so fucking affordable. God fucking dammit.

So of course, when all Timmy really wanted was a proper good nights sleep, his neighbor had to bring someone home with him to fuck. 

At first he naively thinks that it’s just someone going to bed early, just like him. He hears a distinctly female giggle and the murmur of a male voice, and assumes he’s living next to a couple.

The dots only get connected when a very loud and very over the top moan fills the room, and Timmy’s eyes pop back open in horror. He quickly sent up a prayer to a God he doesn’t even believe in, desperately hoping that this wasn’t what he thought it was. But then he hears the unmistakable sound of kissing, more giggling, and another moan, and he curses his neighbor to hell and back.

He had half a mind to loudly knock on the wall, but then a deep moan rang out, and Timmy went from annoyed to rock hard in three seconds flat. He really fucking hoped that whoever that voice belonged to wasn’t his neighbor, because that would be fucking awkward.

Not that listening to them fucking wasn’t awkward regardless which one of the voices in the room was his neighbor, but it would at least be a little less awkward if his neighbor wasn’t the one with the voice directly linked to Timmy’s dick.

“Fuck, _Armie_.” The female voice moans out, and Timmy has no fucking clue who this Army guy is, but he can hear his filthy chuckles as loud as if he were standing right next to him, and it’s… Well, it’s hot as fuck, there’s no denying that, but also, more than a little disconcerting.

More moans fill the room, and suddenly their bed starts knocking against the wall – and either Timmy lost a startling amount of time fantasizing about this Army dude, or these people didn’t fucking know what foreplay was.

He really couldn’t tell you which one it was, because he had no fucking clue. It really could be either or.

What he does know for sure though, was that he could not listen to another minute of them fucking, regardless which one of them were his actual neighbor, or if they both were. He quickly runs into the living room and grabs his earphones, and plugs them into his phone before opening Spotify and putting on the first playlist he could find.

He really fucking hoped he didn’t live next to a couple, especially not one as loud as this. Closing his eyes and desperately hoping Kid Cudi would lull him to sleep, Timmy crossed his fingers in hope of this being a one time thing.

It wasn’t.

Turns out, his neighbor was in fact the Army guy with the hot as fuck voice – which, just his fucking luck – but not only that, apparently, this Army was a fucking slut. Not that Timmy was one to slutshame, but considering he’d been bringing home different people, every goddamn night, for a whole fucking week? Yeah, Timmy was running out of rope, and an exhausted Timmy was a slutshaming asshole.

But Army brought it on himself, the fucker.

Timmy had given up on the music strategy already after the first night, because he’d never slept so badly in his life. He sends his sincerest apologies to Kid Cudi, but dude gave him the weirdest fucking nightmares.

Instead, he tries to just, ride it out. Terrible choice of words, but, really, that is what he’s doing. He’s just laying in bed, waiting for them to finish fucking, so he could sleep, and he can’t help but wonder if this is what it’s like to have roommates. Maybe this is karma for choosing to live at home and not in the dorms, maybe this is just something everyone has to experience in their lifetime.

Or maybe the universe just fucking hates him.

But as the week progresses, he gets weirdly used to the loud sex noises coming from the other apartment, and they don’t bother him as much as they did at the start. Probably also helps that after that first girl, all of Army’s other partners have been male, and sue him, but they were much more pleasing to listen to.

Not that he was. Listening. Because that would be creepy. And he definitely wasn’t developing a weird kind of crush on this Army guy based on nothing but his sex noises. Because that would be even creepier. He needed to stop getting ahead of himself, he didn’t even know what the guy looked like for fuckssake, or what he was like as a person.

Just because he was apparently really great in bed, if the way his partners kept chanting his name like he was the second coming was any indication, didn’t mean he was a good _person_. And despite Timmy’s weird little hang up on his voice, if he wasn’t a good guy, then Timmy didn’t want to know him. It was as simple as that.

He didn’t do assholes, and he didn’t just mean that romantically. Surprisingly enough, assholes didn’t make very good friends – he’d learned that the hard way.

So no, if this Army guy wasn’t a nice person, then he could keep his hot as fuck voice and stay the hell away from Timmy’s life.

Not that Timmy had any plans on including him in his life in a greater capacity than he already had, just by being forced to listen to him fuck every night, but whatever.

Then on Sunday, which was Timmy’s only day off, he literally runs into Army in the stairway on his way home from getting a breakfast bagel – And of course he had to be good looking as all fucking hell, because _of course_.

“Oh shit!” Armie says with a shocked laugh, as he reaches out to grab Timmy’s arms so he doesn’t fall headfirst down the stairs. “Man, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going, are you okay?”

“I…” Timmy starts, trailing off as his brain suddenly wakes up and shouts _IT’S YOUR SLUTTY NEIGHBOR WITH THE HOT VOICE!_ Quickly closing his mouth so that he doesn’t accidentally say that out loud, and shaking his head to clear those thoughts, Timmy smiles tight-lipped back at Army. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s probably my fault anyway, I’ve been more clumsy than usual lately.”

“Well, in any case, I’m still sorry. I’m Armie, by the way, I live in 7C, I don’t think I’ve seen you around before? Have you just moved in, or?”

“Mmyeah, yeah, I uh, I moved in like, 3 weeks ago or so? And I, well, I live next door to you actually.” Timmy says with a one shouldered shrug, and he can see the exact moment Army realizes what that means.

He’d never known a grown man could blush quite that much, it was actually kind of adorable.

“Wait, but that means… Oh fuck, I am, ohmygod, I am so sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize for having an active sex life.” Timmy snorts, “It’s fine. Just, you know, if you could try to keep it down next time, especially during the week, I’d appreciate it.”

He really doesn’t know where the fuck this suave motherfucker came from, because on the inside Timmy is dying, his brain is just flashing SLUTTY NEIGHBOR SLUTTY NEIGHBOR HOT SLUTTY NEIGHBOR HOT SLUTTY NEIGHBOR YOU’VE LISTENED TO HIM FUCK FUCK NEIGHBOR HOT SLUT at him, and is generally being absolutely no help at all.

“Uhm, yeah, I… I really am sorry, I didn’t realize anyone had moved in, that apartment has been empty for months. If I’d known, I… Just, I’m sorry.” Army runs a hand through his hair, and awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. “I promise I’ll be quiet from now on, uh, you never told me your name by the way.”

“Oh, right. I’m Timmy.” He smiles, watching as Armie mouths his name to himself, which was not an adorable sight, no brain, shh.

“Well then, Timmy, I’ve gotta go but I’ll see you around!” Armie grins as he side steps Timmy and starts making his way down the stairs.

“Yeah, see you.” Timmy calls after him, before muttering quietly to himself. “Or more like, I’ll hear you.”

And sure enough, later that night, Timmy was awoken by the unmistakable sound of Army getting fucked within an inch of his life. With a roll of his eyes, he flops over onto his stomach, and goes back to sleep.

Business as fucking usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stole the title of this from the Metric song Satellite Mind.


	4. The Comet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is something as simple as a the 4400 AU. 
> 
> Basically, Timmy disappears from New York in 1983, only to turn back up again in a glowing ball of light in Los Angeles in 2020. Armie is an FBI agent assigned to the case. 
> 
> (Tags: Alternative Universe - FBI, Missing Person, Sci-Fi stuffs and things, Temporary Character Death? [I mean, technically, all the missing peeps are declared dead before they return, and Timmy would have been missing for nearly 40 years. But it's not really a _thing_ in this, cause lol, I didn't get that far])

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't fucking know, I just love this show very much a lot.  
> And yes, it should make sense even if you haven't watched the show.

_1983:_

Walking down the sidewalk, headphones on – his favorite Duran Duran cassette playing on his Walkman – and a cigarette in his mouth, Timmy felt on top of the world. He’d come out to his parents last night, and while they hadn’t been ecstatic about it, mainly because they were worried about the ongoing AIDS crisis, they still reacted a lot better than Timmy had been fearing.

He’d halfway expected to get disowned, even though his sister kept telling him he was being ridiculous and that their parents would love him no matter what. Usually he hated it when she was right about something, but this time, this time he was more relieved than anything else.

Timmy had promised to take Pauline out for lunch, and pay for everything, when he’d finally worked up the courage to tell their parents his secret – provided they accepted him, of course. Which they did, so here he was, on his way to Pauline’s favorite restaurant.

He wasn’t too big on going out for lunch, couldn’t understand why you’d want to eat such a big meal before your dinner, but for some reason it was Pauline’s favorite meal of the day, so lunch it was.

Just as he’s about to round the corner, something zaps him in the back, and for half a second he worries he’s been stabbed. But when he turns around, expecting to find someone holding a bloody knife, there is nothing there.

When he turns back around, filing the experience under ‘weird shit to tell Pauline about at lunch’, there’s a sudden flash of light, and then everything goes dark.

_2020 – Present day._

Armie is getting really fucking sick and tired of everybody going on and on about this stupid fucking comet. It’s a _comet_ , the fuck can be so goddamn interesting about that? There are so many of them out there, Halley’s comet keeps coming back time and time again, you’d think people would be used to these things by now.

But no, apparently not.

He’s sitting at his desk, trying his best to finish his rapport on the latest murder investigation, but people around him keep talking about the comet, way too fucking loudly, and he’s having a real difficulty staying focused.

Who knew working at the FBI could be compared so aptly to a fucking kindergarten? Only thing missing were the mandatory naps, which was a crying shame because he could really use a nap right about now.

“Wait, what the fuck?” Nick, their chief analyst, says with a frown, before standing up and pressing some buttons on the massive touchscreen at the front of the room, immediately filling it with a bunch of equations and pictures of the earth, as well as the famous comet.

Armie is a little impressed, he’s not gonna lie, because frankly has no idea how to even turn the goddamn screen on, let alone get stuff from his computer to show up on it – but he loses interest pretty quickly when he realizes it’s just gonna be more talk about this fucking comet.

“The comet, it’s not a fly-by anymore, it’s coming right at us.” Nick keeps pressing more buttons, clearly adjusting his calculations, while everyone in the room just stares at him.

With a sigh, Armie goes to stand next to him. “Alright, NASA, I’ll bite. What does that mean for us? Like, what’s the estimated damage?” He can’t imagine a comet heading straight for earth is in anyway shape or form _good_ , but, before they cause a massive, possibly worldwide panic, it would probably be a good idea to know just how devastating a hit from this fucking thing would be.

“I don’t… What? No, that can’t be right.” Nick frowns at the screen again, and touches a whole bunch of random things that Armie doesn’t even pretend to understand. “It just changed course again, and it’s… Accelerating?”

“A comet doesn’t change course.” A steely voice speaks up from back of the room, and with a roll of his eyes, Armie turns around and raises an eyebrow at agent Ronan.

“Well, this one just did.” He says, gesturing towards the screen, filled with Nick’s calculations and estimates.

“Then it’s not a comet.” Agent Ronan shrugs, sounding completely sure of herself.

Armie isn’t about to argue with her, because quite frankly, he doesn’t know shit about how comets usually behaves. Though considering Halley’s comet keeps coming back, well, maybe she’s got a point.

“What do you think it is then?” Armie asks, trying his best to keep his annoyance out of his voice, last thing he’d need was for agent Ronan to think he was pissed at her, when really he was just pissed at the fucking comet – or whatever the fuck it is now – for luring him into talking about it.

“Fuck knows.” Agent Ronan snorts, before catching herself and staring wide eyed up at Armie. “Uh, I mean. I couldn’t tell you, sir.”

“Oh, please.” Armie laughs, “Don’t sir me, I barely outrank you. Besides, don’t tell the boss, but I like you better when you curse.”

A small smile spreads across agent Ronan’s face, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“What the fuck?” Nick interrupts them again, and Armie turns back towards the screen only to find the arrow denoting the comet’s trajectory pointing directly at Griffith Park. “That can’t be right.” He mutters to himself, doing the calculations again, only to wind up with the exact same result.

“If it keeps the speed its got now,” agent Ronan says, taking a step closer to the screen, “When exactly is it gonna hit?”

“Uhm.” Nick frowns, adding a couple of more calculations, before turning around and staring wide eyed at Armie. “Tomorrow. It’s gonna hit tomorrow.”

“And the estimated devastation?” Armie asks again, because he never got an answer to that, and considering it was coming down practically in their fucking backyard, well, he’d really like to know.

“It, it should be minimal?” Nick seems frazzled, touching the screen practically at lightning speed. “It shouldn’t be big enough to cause any real damage, because most of it should burn off as it hits the atmosphere?”

“Are you asking me, or telling me?” Armie jokes, mostly to try and get rid of some of the lines of tension on Nick’s face.

“Hah hah, very funny, asshole.” Nick deadpans. “No, but, considering it’s headed for the park, and not a densely populated area, there shouldn’t be that much damage. Some, of course, but I don’t think it’s gonna be life threatening? Unless, you know, it’s filled with people”

“Well, I doubt we’re the only one who’s figured this out, and people are idiots, so if they find out the comet is headed towards the park, they’re gonna wanna fucking go to see it. So we should probably, I don’t know, call someone to get the park closed.” Armie says, mostly to Nick, but surprisingly the entire room mutters in agreement. To be quite honest, he’d kinda forgotten they were there, they’d never been this quiet in all the years he’d been at this office.

“You’d be correct in your assumptions, special agent Hammer.” Supervisory special agent Williams suddenly speaks up, scaring Armie half to death because he wasn’t even aware she’d stepped out of her office. “I’ve already been in contact with both NASA and the local police, and we’re making sure nobody is going to be inside the park at the time of collision.”

“Well, that’s good?” Armie frowns, not really understanding why she’s talking directly to him as if he’s the only one there, he's not even the highest ranked agent in the room, there must be a catch.

“Indeed.” She nods. “However, the local PD have requested back up, to handle the press as well as, as you said before, the idiots who want to see the comet hit. I’ve assigned you and agent Ronan the task of keeping everybody safe.”

Aaaaand there it was.

He was on fucking comet duty. Great. His life was fucking fantastic. Never should have accepted that promotion, he should have stayed in Homicide. He didn’t have to babysit comets in Homicide.

“That’s great.” He says, with an unconvincing smile, but SSA Williams just grins back at him. He knows this is punishment for disobeying her direct orders on his last case, and in a way, he does deserve it. But fuck it all to hell, he’d rather be anywhere but where the fucking comet is coming down.

With his luck it’s gonna hit him in the fucking head.

Surprisingly, agent Ronan seems excited to be on comet detail, because when he picks her up the next day, she’s practically vibrating in her seat.

“The fuck’s up with you?” He grunts, taking a sip of his disgustingly overpriced coffee, and immediately grimacing at the taste – he fucking forgot to add the sweetener, and now it was completely undrinkable. Fuck everything.

“I’m just excited!” Agent Ronan grins. “We’re going to get to see something from outer space, touch down on earth, with our own eyes! That isn’t exciting to you?”

“Mmm, no. Not really. I’m not really into, like, space and shit.” Armie shrugs. Handing the coffee over to agent Ronan, who just blinks back at him, clearly not understanding why he needs her to hold his coffee. “You like black coffee right?”

She frowns even deeper as she replies hesitantly, “Yes?”

“Good, take this monstrosity off my hands before I puke.” Armie pushes the coffee more firmly into her hands, and finally she accepts it. Taking a big gulp of it just to be a little shit, which to be honest, makes Armie warm up to her even more than he already had.

“You’re a weirdo, anyone ever tell you that?” She asks, still sipping the coffee, and Armie just snorts.

“Yes, my mother. Many, _many_ , times.”

As they pull up to the park, they both roll their eyes at the same time at the sight of the news vans that are lined up right next to the entrance.

“Leave the talking to me, alright? I mean it. Whatever they say, you either stay quiet, or say no comment, okay?” Armie turns towards agent Ronan with a raised eyebrow.

He knows she doesn’t have much experience with the press, and he’d hate to see her get crucified for saying anything she shouldn’t have. Not that he thinks she’s an idiot and can’t handle herself, but because he knows how fucking sneaky the reporters can be.

He’s fucked up with the press more times than he’d like in his career, always somehow managing to place his foot in his mouth at one point or another.

“Yeah, I got it.” She nods, picking up her cap from the dashboard, and putting it on her head as she steps out of the car.

Immediately, the reporters swarm them, asking a whole bunch of questions at the same time, and he hears nothing but mumbling. “Okay, listen, I can’t understand a word you’re saying right now, okay? So how about this? I’ll give you all a blanket statement to use, is that alright with you?”

When they all nod, and immediately shove their microphones into his face, he just sighs. “Great. So, we don’t know much more than you do at this point. Something is heading towards the park, and the last thing we want is for people to get hurt, so we closed it. And now we’re here to ensure that nobody sneaks in, and potentially injures themselves. That includes all of you, you understand? No sneaking in to try and get the best footage possible. Whatever it is it’s not worth your lives, got it?”

He makes sure to make eye contact with all of them, not moving on until they’ve all nodded their agreement at him. “Good. That’s all for now.”

Waiting for the comet – “For fuckssakes, Hammer, I keep telling you, it can’t be a comet when it changes course like that, it’s more like, an unidentified space rock” – Waiting for the _unidentified_ _space rock_ to touch down was surprisingly boring.

Not that Armie had anticipated comet duty to be much fun, but it was still a lot less action-filled than he’d imagined. So far, there had been no signs of any idiots trying to enter the park, and he and agent Ronan were basically just standing around like a couple of overpaid spectators – though, not _that_ overpaid.

Literally nothing was happening, everyone was just staring up at the sky, watching as the glowing ball of whatever the fuck it was, came closer and closer. To be honest, his neck was starting to hurt, and he really needed to pee.

Turning his back on the park, he looks around, trying to find something, anything, to entertain himself with – and possibly take his mind off the fact he really needed to go to the bathroom. But, the only thing he could see, were the reporters, which nope, and agent Ronan.

“I’m bored.” He pokes agent Ronan in the side. “Entertain me.”

But before she has the chance to reply, he hears everyone let out a gasp, and he turns back around just in time to see a weird, glowing ball, descend into the park. It doesn’t as much as hit the ground, as just gently glide down and _land._

Then suddenly, a flashbang goes off.

Or at least, Armie thinks it’s a flashbang. A pretty damn potent one too, because there is a blinding light, followed by a massive shockwave, sending him flying backwards and landing on his back a few feet away from where he’d been standing.

Agent Ronan is right beside him, but she’s already managed to get back on her feet, dusting herself off before grabbing Armie’s shoulder. “Agent Hammer, get up! This is, you need to see this. Oh my god.”

The shockwave had blasted him right in the face, so he was having a bit of trouble opening his eyes, but when he eventually had managed to wipe away all the dust, he found himself staring at… People?

A whole bunch of random people, dressed in all variations of clothing – he swore he even saw a woman in a wedding dress. But the one he struggles with keeping his eyes off the most, is the curly guy in the front, with what looks to be a Walkman strapped to his belt.

He doesn’t know what it is about him, but as he looks into his eyes, and finds the guy staring right back at him, Armie feels his heart skip a beat. Whoever this guy is, wherever he came from, he’s a riddle Armie would be more than happy to solve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2.5k of build up and no pay off, you're welcome :D


	5. Secret Diary of a Call Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy is a high-end escort, and today's client was going to be a good one, he could tell.
> 
> (Tags: Alternative Universe - Escorts, Very little actual sex for being a fic about a sex worker, Rated M for Mature because of sex mentions)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just keep writing stuff based on old shows I miss. Good times.

It wasn’t as if Timmy’s life long ambition had been to sell sex, he hadn’t majored in dick sucking for cash – funnily enough, he’d majored in marketing and sales, he just never thought the thing he’d be selling would be his body.

But while it hadn’t been his original plan, it was still a nice side-gig which helped pay the rent, as well as leave him with enough cash left over each month to live quite a nice life. He’d already managed to pay off his student loans, and as he watched his friends who – just like him – worked two jobs struggle to make ends meet, well, he can’t say he had any regrets.

It had started on accident, one night in college. He’d been stood up by his date, at a really posh hotel restaurant, and had gone to the bar to order a drink and make himself seem a little less pathetic and more like he actually belonged.

Next thing he knew, he was sipping on a way too expensive whiskey, and a guy was checking him out from the other side of the bar. The guy was a little older, probably in his 40’s, but he still looked hot as hell, so when he hit on him, and asked if Timmy would want to join him in his room for a second drink, he said yes.

They didn’t actually fuck, which was a little disappointing at the time, because Timmy had been craving a good dicking, but he’d gotten to suck the guy’s dick which was really good too – if not quite as satisfying as getting fucked would have been.

When the guy had opened his wallet and given him five crisp 100 dollar bills and told him he had been the best he’d had in a while, Timmy had been more than a little offended. He wasn’t stupid enough to turn the money down – he was a starving college student after all – but the fact that the guy had thought he was a prostitute? That stung.

Being able to splurge on groceries and buy himself some new socks though, that took away the sting of being mistaken for a prostitute pretty damn quick, and he started considering trying it again – on purpose this time.

Then it just sort of escalated from there.

He didn’t seek out guys in hotels anymore, he had a professional website set up, as well as an app, and got most his bookings through that. He also had an agent, not a pimp exactly, but they did oversee his bookings and made sure to properly vet the clients.

Only a couple of his friends knew about the whole escort job, and while they weren’t exactly over the moon about it, they had long since accepted that Timmy wasn’t going to quit – the money was too good, and the bad clients were few and far between.

It had surprised him a little at first, just how many of his clients were married. It wasn’t that he was surprised that people cheated, it was more how little they actually cared to disguise the fact that they were cheating on their wives with him.

Most of them didn’t bother even bother taking their wedding rings off, but some even had him show up at their houses when the wife was away, sometimes they even had _kids_.

The married clients were usually always the ones who started their sessions by proclaiming their heterosexuality, and Timmy had quickly learned how to stop wanting to roll his eyes at those disclaimers.

They were always the same too, they’d look at him, cross their arms and say “Just so you know, I’m straight.” As if he cared where they got their dicks wet when they weren’t paying him to do it.

He had a new client today, he was set to meet him in a Starbucks of all things. It wasn’t Timmy that had insisted on meeting somewhere public, it had been the client, Timmy had mostly just agreed to it because he thought it was hilarious and a little cute. But if he could get the guy to pay for his chai latte, well then, it’d be worth it.

Timmy hadn’t been given a specific personifier too look for, but the client had seen his photo, so when he arrived at the Starbucks he just stood there, awkwardly pretending to look at the menu, hoping the other guy would show up and put him out of his misery pretty quick.

Luckily, Timmy didn’t have to wait very long, he’d barely managed to read the menu once, when he felt someone lightly tap him on the shoulder.

He’s not expecting to have to look up to meet the guy’s eyes, usually most guys are either the same height as him, or just a little bit shorter, but this guy is _huge_. He’s not only tall, but he’s built like a brick shithouse as well – so naturally, Timmy’s thoughts immediately goes to the guy’s dick, because if he’s this tall, and this built? Dude must be _packing_.

Today was going to be _fun,_ it had been a long time since Timmy had gotten some real good dick. Which is funny, since getting dick is his job. It’s just that lately, most his clients have been into the blowjobs, and sue him, but Timmy really missed getting dicked down.

Luckily, this guy had booked him for just that.

“Hey.” The guy smiles, looking a little sheepish. “You must be–”

“Kyle, yes.” Timmy cuts him off, smiling widely up at him. It’s not that he was trying to be rude, he just wanted the first time he said Timmy’s name to be when he was in direct contact with his dick.

Granted, he wouldn’t be saying Timmy’s actual name, nor is it the best name he could have chosen for himself, but it did its job. It was short enough that his clients remembered it, and it was probably as far away from his real name as he could get without calling himself Bob, or something stupid like that.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Armie.”

Timmy could tell that, despite the ridiculousness of the name, it was his real one – he’d gotten quite good at spotting the ones who used fake names at this stage. They always stuttered slightly as they introduced themselves, as if the name didn’t roll off the tongue quite as easily as it should, or if they’d practiced it beforehand, he could tell by the small micro expressions they made after the introduction, the slightest look of pride when he didn’t call them out on lying.

Armie points up at the menu, and sends Timmy a shy smile. “Do you, uhm, want anything before we leave?”

“I mean, if you don’t mind? I’d like a chai latte.” Fuck yeah, getting good dick and free tea? Today was Timmy’s lucky day, he was sure of it.

Armie orders an americano for himself, and Timmy’s chai latte, paying for it with what looks to be a black American Express card, and Timmy is sure his eyebrows are currently hitting his hairline, because holy shit – whoever this Armie guy is, he’s rich as fucking hell.

Timmy isn’t in the habit of judging his clients, or wondering whether there’s a reason behind them going to the extreme of paying a stranger for sex – however, with Armie, if he is as rich as his credit card makes him out to be, it could just be that he’s too busy to get sex the regular way.

He definitely wouldn’t be the first guy to pay for Timmy’s services instead of swiping himself to death on Tinder.

Armie leads him to his car, and when Timmy sees that it’s a fucking Bentley, he knows without a shadow of a doubt that yes, Armie is indeed as rich as his credit card made him out to be.

He’s never even seen a Bentley in real life before, let alone touched one, or _sat_ in one. Would he be okay to bring his tea into it? Oh god, what if he spilled on the seats.

“Wow.” He says uselessly, and he hears Armie chuckle lightly behind him as he unlocks the doors. “I’m sorry, but… Give me three seconds to finish my tea, because I can’t have you bill me for spilling anything in here.”

“Don’t worry about it, man.” Armie smiles, “You wouldn’t be the first to spill anything in there.”

Timmy doesn’t understand how he could be quite that chill about stains on his upholstery, when he’s pretty sure that a single stain would cost more to clean than he makes in an entire year.

However, as he gets in the car and spots two booster seats in the back, he gets it. Armie has _kids_ , which, in his business, could only mean one thing... 

Sure enough, as he subtly looks over at where Armie’s hands are gripping the steering wheel, he can see him wearing a wedding ring. 

Well, isn’t that just kick you in the crotch, spit on your neck, fantastic?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While a good chunk of this was indeed based on the Billie Piper show, some of it came from this one article I read a good while back, about this guy who sold sex to men, and how most of them would be adamant about being straight despite paying him for gay sex, and how they'd even get aggressive with him if he didn't immediately agree with them as they declared their straightness, and it was just sad. 
> 
> Like, yeah, I am perfectly aware that sexual and romantic orientations can differ, however I doubt _all_ of them are homosexual and heteroromantic. So. It's sad. 
> 
> Fuck society, basically.
> 
> (Bonus point if you spot the super duper obvious Friends reference)


	6. Amnesia? Don't Be Rude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie wakes up in the hospital, unable to remember who he is. But it's fine, he forgot how to worry too. 
> 
> (Tags: Amnesia, attempts at humor)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically this is an amnesia fic that's the opposite of sad.  
> It's also extremely medically inaccurate :D

He wakes up to an annoying beeping sound, but the light in the room is too fucking bright for him to open his eyes, let alone look for and turn the source of the beeping off. Maybe it’ll go away on its own. He fucking hopes so, because his head is _killing_ him.

He must fall asleep again, because the next time he wakes up, the lights are a little less bright, which is nice. The fucking beeping is still there though, which, _screw you_ beepy thing, he was coming for you.

Opening his eyes, he finds a man in a white coat at the end of his bed, tapping on a tablet looking very focused – but as soon as a pained groan escapes his mouth as he’s trying to lean over and turn the annoying beeping machine off – the man immediately looks up at him.

“Ah, Armie, good morning. It’s nice to see you awake.” The man looks right at him and smiles, so that must mean he’s Armie. Which, good to know.

He doesn’t know why he didn’t remember that. That’s probably not good. But he doesn’t want the man to know he doesn’t know him, or himself, so he just smiles back and nods.

“Is your head feeling better?” The man asks, quickly looking back down at his tablet.

To be honest he’d forgotten he had a headache for a bit when he woke up earlier, so that must mean he’s gotten some painkillers, because he’s finally worked out that he’s actually in a hospital and the man in the white coat is a doctor.

A doctor checking up on him, which must mean, he’s been injured. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t remember himself.

He still doesn’t want to tell the doctor he doesn’t know him, because he feels like he should, and he doesn’t want to hurt his feelings. “Yes, I don’t have a headache anymore.”

“That’s good!” The doctor smiles, tapping on the tablet again. “If that changes, you press the call button and tell the nurse so that she can give you more painkillers. Okay?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” He nods, before quickly pointing to the annoying beeping machine – which by now he’d realized is keeping track of his heart rate. “Is this still necessary? It’s just, it’s getting on my last nerve, and it’s not really helping with the headache thing.”

The doctor smiles again, and taps some more on his tablet. “I get it, and I’d love nothing more than to be able to turn it off for you, but, you’re still under observation, and we do need to be able to keep an eye on your vitals. So, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to live with the beeping a little while longer.”

“Yeah, okay.” While he’s not all that happy with it, he’d be even more upset if his heart gave out and he _died_ just because he thought the beeps were annoying.

“In happier news.” The doctor says with a smile, putting his tablet down into one of his enormous coat pockets. “Your family is here, do you want me to send them in?”

Oh. He has family? That’s nice.

He probably should be panicking a lot more about the fact that he can’t remember who he is, but it’s like… He thinks he didn’t only forget himself, he also forgot how to care. So realizing his memories of himself are gone? Eh, who really cares? Not him, because fuck knows what he cares about.

Clearly, not _all_ his memories are gone, because he knows what a hospital is, he knows what a doctor is, and he knows plenty of other things as well. He knows _things,_ he just, doesn’t know himself.

Which again, he should probably be worried about that. Maybe when he remembers how that feels, he’ll be worried.

“Armie?” The doctor frowns, and it’s like he has some sort of laser focus, as he looks him over from head to toe. “Are you okay? Do you not want to see your family?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must’ve zoned out.” He smiles, he hopes it’s convincing. He wants to know who his family is, and see if he can remember _them_. “I’d really like to see my family, please.”

See? He remembers that being polite is a good way of getting his way, so why can’t he remember who the fuck he is?

Oh, wait, is this what worry feels like? Hmm.

The doctor steps outside for a short while, and when he comes back, he’s followed by a tall blonde woman, with her hair up in a tight ponytail, and a tall, skinny guy with the most unruly set of dark curls he’s ever seen. Or so he thinks, he might have seen more unruly curls at some point and then just forgotten.

Looking at them, he knows he knows them, he doesn’t know how, or who they are – but he _knows_ them.

So that’s good. Right?

They don’t feel the same though, looking at them, it’s… It’s different, his feelings towards them feel different. He looks at the woman, and he knows he loves her, but looking at the guy, he knows he _loves_ him.

Neither one of them say anything as they enter the room, the doctor must have told them to be quiet because of his head injury, but they both hug him, and the woman kisses his forehead, while the guy takes his hand and rubs the back of it with his thumb. Which is nice, they’re nice, having family feels nice.

He doesn’t know why the touch to his hand feels more intimate to him than the forehead kiss, but it does, and he does trust his feelings on this, they’re all that he’s got after all.

So, going off of that, the woman must be his sister – because she doesn’t look old enough to be his mother, and if the way his forehead wrinkles instinctively as he thinks of the word mother, clearly they don’t get along at all.

And if the woman is his sister, that must make the guy… He looks down at where he’s still holding his hand, and finds his eyebrows climbing up his forehead as he sees that he’s wearing what looks like a wedding ring.

Which… He’s _married?_ That settles it then, the guy must be his husband.

Holy shit! He _lucked the fuck out_. His husband is not just a snack, but a whole damn meal. Or so his brain says, he doesn’t really know what it means, but it must be good.

Now if only he could actually remember their wedding, or you know, the wedding night…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very lightly based on this John Mulaney quote
>
>> “I also think it’s weird in movies, when someone has amnesia, and they wake up in the hospital, a lot of times surrounded by friends and family, but when they open their eyes they go ‘WHO ARE YOU?!’ because that’s not how you act when you don’t recognize somebody. That’s very rude. It would be chaos out there if every time you saw someone you didn’t recognize you went ‘WHO ARE YOU?!’. I always try to be really polite in life, so if I had amnesia, you’d never know it! I’d wake up and they’d be like ‘Hi John, we’re so happy you’re awake’ and I’d just be like, ‘Oh, hey man… How’s it going? Oh hey dude, nice to see you again’ because that’s how you act when you can tell that someone recognizes you and you have no fucking clue who they are.”
> 
> Clearly that quote has a lot more potential than whatever the fuck this turned out to be, but heyo. 


	7. Pour Some Sugar On Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While neither one of them had meant for it to happen, they wouldn't want to be without it, or each other. 
> 
> (tags: Sugar Daddy AU, Unrequited Love, Or Is It?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the award for most cheesy title goes to.... Me! :D

It had started on accident.

Neither one of them had searched the other one out looking for _this._ To tell the truth, Timmy hadn’t even realized this was a thing people did, let alone something he’d ever feel comfortable with. While Armie had definitely heard about it, and had seen the appeal of it all along, he’d just never anticipated ever meeting someone who he would genuinely want to take care of like that.

They’d met for the first time by the pool at the Sunset Tower hotel, which considering they both lived in New York, they’d chosen to see as an act of fate – even though neither one of them really believed in fate to begin with.

Timmy had been there with his family, dragged along for a relaxing vacation to celebrate the end of his exams, and more importantly, to get away from the New York winter.

It wasn’t that he minded spending time with his family, or the warmer weather – but, he did feel a little bad about the fact that his parents felt they saw so little of him that the only surefire way of getting him to spend time with them was to bring him on a trip out of state.

He felt even worse about the fact that they’d must have blown through most of their savings on the plane tickets and the hotel, because even though he’d offered to pay for his own tickets and room, they had quite firmly turned him down.

He had still looked up the prices though, and while he’s glad he didn’t have to pay it himself – mostly because there was no way he’d be able to afford to go if they’d actually accepted his offer – it made him feel even worse about the amount of money they were spending just to hang out with him.

Armie on the other hand, had been on a business trip, and the day he ran into Timmy – or more accurately, Timmy had run into him – he’d just sat through a 5 hour negotiation about an upcoming merger, and he’d mostly gone to the pool to try and feel a little less like he was stuck in an extremely fancy prison.

After Timmy had crashed right into Armie and spilled his drink all over him – and apologized about a thousand times – they had spent a good couple of hours just talking about the most random things. Timmy couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so comfortable around a virtual stranger, and when he shyly admitted that to Armie before they parted ways for the night, Armie had smiled softly back at him, and agreed.

They met up again for the next few days, and then Armie was set to fly back home, while Timmy still had a few days left of vacation time. Neither one of them really thought they’d see each other again, since they’d forgotten to talk about the fact that they were both living in New York.

So when Timmy, once again, had run into Armie and spilled his drink all over him – a caramel latte this time, which ouch – he almost convinced himself he was just seeing things.

They’d exchanged numbers then – after Timmy had once again apologized a thousand times, and even offered to pay for Armie’s dry cleaning despite the fact that there was no way in hell he’d be able to afford it – and Armie had texted him that same day, asking to meet up for dinner later in the week.

That’s how it had all started, Timmy spilling his drinks on Armie in two different states, and Armie taking him out for dinner as a reward.

What followed was one of the most rewarding friendships Timmy had ever had, and he wasn’t even talking about the fact that Armie seemed to really enjoy buying him things. It was more that Armie just made him _feel_ good, he’d never had a friend that truly listened to him the way that Armie did, and more importantly, he never felt like Armie was judging him for anything.

He could truly tell Armie anything, which was rare for him.

He also really appreciated the fact that despite them running in completely different circles, and their daily problems were worlds apart, he never felt like Armie was taking his problems any less seriously than his own million dollar ones.

At first when Armie started buying him things, Timmy hadn’t thought much of it, since he was poor as fuck, and it was just small things, like paying for dinner or take out.

It made perfect sense that Armie would pay for that, since he was always the one suggesting they'd go out to all these fancy ass places Timmy could barely pronounce — despite his dad’s best efforts, his french was really quite bad at this point.

And, like any other poor college student who lived on a steady diet of the cheapest Ramen noodles available, there was no way Timmy was ever going to refuse being treated to actual, proper, food — no matter the cost.

Mostly because Armie had assured him, that as the CEO of an insanely successful company, he could afford to buy pretty much anything. 

Then Armie paid for his tuition, and after yelling at him for spending way too much fucking money on him, Timmy had repaid him with a blowjob.

Next thing they knew, they had a full on Sugar Daddy thing going on, where Armie loved to spoil Timmy, and Timmy loved to suck Armie’s dick in thanks.

It truly did happen on accident, but neither one of them would change a thing.

Or, well, Timmy could think of one thing he’d like to change, but that was the one thing he could never tell Armie about, because he didn’t want to lose his friendship.

The gifts he truly could live without, but Armie? He never wanted to lose him. Which is why he was never going to tell Armie about the fact that his feelings had gone beyond friendship.

Will kept calling him a fucking idiot, because according to him, Armie was just as in love with Timmy, and he should just tell him. 

But Timmy knew better, because Armie had already told him that he wasn’t really looking for a relationship right now. But when he told Will that, he’d just rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“You’re already in a fucking relationship though, dumbass, why not make it official?” When Timmy just shook his head, Will rolled his eyes again.

“Come on, bro. Open your goddamn eyes! You’re already doing all the relationship shit — You obviously love each other, you’re sleeping together, he buys you shit just cause they remind him of you and he wants to make you happy. So for fuckssakes, put me out of my misery, and just tell the guy you’re in love with him and want to have his babies.”

Timmy couldn’t risk it though, so no matter how much his heart was aching to, he wasn’t going to tell Armie about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to clear up a tiny misconception about this whole drabble series thing, because apparently I wasn't as clear about it as I thought.
> 
> I'm not asking you guys to choose just _one_ story to be continued, because this isn't one of those voting things where the majority wins and that's the only one to ever get continued. This is literally just me getting rid of all the random scenes that pop up in my head as I'm trying to write my WIPS or go to sleep.
> 
> And when I ask you to tell me which one you like? That's just me being a whore for validation, and wondering which ones you'd actually want to read if I sat down to take the idea and properly plot out a full fic for it. And you know, it could literally end up being all of them, but also could end up being none of them. I'm basically just asking 'if i come back to this, will you want it?' not "CHOOSE ONE OR DIE" 
> 
> Does that clear things up? Or are you more confused than ever?

**Author's Note:**

> As I said before, some of these might get revisited and turned into full fics, because clearly none of them are in any way shape or form _complete_ , but again, who knows, I can't even fucking finish the 1389586 WIP's I've already got going, so, we'll see.
> 
> But do let me know which ones you actually like/enjoy 💖


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